An untold tale
by yami1234
Summary: The pictures on that wall there are all of those who have been silenced. Silenced into a world that is no longer liveable. They are now part of a world that exists only in our mind. Then why is my picture up there?
1. silent pictures

I sat in the small room waiting silently for them to arrive. I glanced around at the small accomidations that have seem to withstand the terrors of the times. Pictures of children, the old, some smiles, some frowns. Pictures of families, pictures of couples, pictures of different indivudals filled the sides of the wall. It was these pictures that held the true meanting of survival, because with each one. Each distinct feature, every gone outline, laid a soul, who with misfortune, and at the same time, luck of the heavens. These were just the small beginning. Of pictures of survivors. Not survivors of something like disease, or a great feat of terror such as sky diving and all. No, these were true survivors of perhaps the most horendous thing to be seen on Earth. The thing that killed more than 4 billion souls, and left everyone touched. Some were luckier than others. True, some still had their families, how will forever be a mystery, and some still had their beliefs. God bless the ones that still believe.

Then look at the others. The others who are left to wonder everyday of their lives, Why them? Why did they, out of so many live? How could we, as a soicety truly rebuild with that question so lingerly lying in our hearts. It was from this, that a new birth to life was given. At least for me anyway, because I look at those pictures and I see me. I am one of those survivors up there. I was one of the lucky ones that managed to survive. And now I was going to share my story of what it truly means to be free, to live, to continue, and to fight for what you believe in.

I look at the door, as she walks in. The small blonde reporter, who ageed to talk with me, since so many are not willing. Who would believe that after such a thing that no one will want to tell their story. True, some are just down right...out of this world, but there are so many others who wait in silence to share. Maybe it's the fear of trying to relive those days..months,...years. Couldn't blame them either, but now as the reporter grabs out her recorder my tale is ready to be told.

This is my story...she clicks on the recorder and it begins...


	2. interview

**First before I ask you to tell me your story I would like to ask you a few questions if you do not mind?**

"Of course."

**What is your name and age?**

"My name is Colette Antionette Maiers and I am currently 16. I will be 17 in two months.

**And how old were you when it all began?**

"Acculary that is quite a funny fact. I just turned 13 that day. Great birthday present I guess you could say. Who would ever guess that the dead, would be a great turning of age gift for anyone."

**Who is with you now? Any family or friends?**

. "Unfortunatly...No family..at least none that I have been able to track down. Friend if that is what you are refering to. I do have a close friend of mine still with me today. She would have liked to be here talking with us, but she just couldn't bring herself to remember that time. It has...been harder for her to cope than it had for me..."

**Do you mind explaining that?**

"No sorry...I do not think that it could be explained to personally. I would have to share the story for you to fully understand."

**Sorry, why don't you start then.**

"I might as well start from the beginning seeing that, it was perhaps the only happiest time I can recall while I was younger. You must realize though, that not many people can sympathize with what I am saying. Many were not able to cope at such an early age with the sudden changes that were about to happen and because of that, many lost their sanity. ..."

"No for someone much older to understand the true meaning of this story..you would have to understand it from a child's view. And not many people can since children didn't survive long enough for liberation..as I call it to come. It was much different for us, expically when we had to watch our lives fall through the cracks...I guess one could call it a long term educational experience, but just like everyone else, we all have our fears today. Just as surely as you do, children like me had many more potent fears though."

**I do not understand..I mean I know what it was like after the dead rose, but explain what you mean please?**

"That is exactly my point. You being..how old were you when it all began?"

**28...**

"Ok being 28 you could not possibly see what it took to make it through day by day for a child. I guess I could try and put it into easier terrms. Just imagine this. Imagine you are, I don't know, lets say 10 and you get lost in a big crowd of people, at something like an amusement park. You can not see you mon or your dad, or anyone you know. All you see is the people around you, completly unaware that you are lost. Imagine now that..that certain amusement park locks you inside, lost and scared, with all these people, and your family is gone, out of sight."

"Suddenly the world around you feels small, like a box that was closed and wound tightly with duck tape. Now take it one step further. You are locked inside an amusement park, alone and scared, your family is now visable, but they don't see you. In fact no one in the park sees you because their main goal is to kill you. All those people that walked by without a care at first, now suddenly want to kill you in the most painful way possible, your family is among them trying to commit this deed. There is no way out remember because the park is closed. Can you now begin to understand how different it is now?"

**I think I do...so you are saying that you as a child, faced this kind of..park sceniro, just not literally?**

"In a way yes, but in a way no. I was lucky..I had my friend with me, so it wasn't as bad as being alone. Which I guess you could say is my fear. I can not go anywhere alone. I have to be with someone at all times. Even while I was waiting for you in this room, I couldn't help, but be scared. It is just a feeling I have grown up with. And with that I think that I can start my story better for you, with this knowledge and hopefully understanding."

**Of course...**

"I'll start on the day it happened. July 18, 2012."

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End file.
